Violent Delights [h.s]

Chapter 6

And as he leaned in to kiss my cheek goodbye, I turned my face so that the kiss aimed my lips. And it did.

You're welcome, Harry Styles.

He seemed surprised by my action - who am I kidding, even I was surprised! - but that didn't stop him from putting his hands around my waist and pulling me closer to him as he slowly moved his lips in sync with my own. Here was I, sharing a kiss with Harry, a man I had met yesterday. I figured, since I'm never going to see him again, I might as well make the most of the time I had left with him.

I was so involved in this kiss, the more I had of it the more I craved.

"«You have witchcraft on your lips*», Violet," he mumbled into my lips as we both pulled away at the same time, before he whispered in my ear "And as delighted as I feel for tasting them, I have to go."

(* a/n: this quote is from shakespeare's novel Romeo and Juliet!)

He gave me a soft kiss on the cheek and left. Just like that, he was gone from my life, as I had absolutely no way of contacting him. I probably should've asked him for his number, but I figured if he wanted to remain in touch with me he should have been the one asking for mine. Why didn't he, though? Why'd he kiss me back if he had no intention of seeing me again?
And what intrigued me the most was why I cared so much about him. I saw him just as a friend... Didn't I? Not that any of that matters now, because he left, taking with him the happiness I felt around him, leaving me with nothing but a memory of his green orbs staring into mine, and his raspy deep voice echoing through the walls of my house.

A good thing about my job was having weekends off, and as I had nothing better to do on a Saturday, I spent the whole day reading and thinking about Harry. I wondered if he could still taste me on his lips, just like I could. I found myself thinking about how happy I'd be if he thought about me half as I thought about him. I had never felt this way towards someone I had only known for such short amount of time, and while half of me was falling sweetly for Harry, the other half of me was saying in a bitter tone "you're nowhere near ready for this.". I had, therefore, this bittersweet feeling growing inside me, and I didn't know how to make it stop, nor if I wanted to.

I hadn't eaten anything all day, scared I'd ruin the taste of the last place in where I'd had contact with Harry; but around 6pm, the noises coming from my stomach were too disturbingly loud, so I decided to prepare myself a bowl of cereal with milk. As I poured the chocolatey cereal on the bowl, I noticed I was running low on it, and after finding a pen in one of the kitchen cabinets I had never bothered to keep organized, I searched for the notepad I usually leave by the sink to write down the groceries. It was right there, but there was something written on its first page, definitely not by me, in a perfectly neat handwriting.

"At this very moment, as I'm staring at you, not being bothered to stop, you're asleep on the couch and I can't help but to wonder... Whose arms made you sleep so peacefully? And then I remember you fell asleep on my own arms, while watching a crappy boring movie. Little did you know my movie was you. Anyways, here's my number, in case you want to discuss who's the biggest cockblocker: Earnshaw or Paris.
Love, Harry Styles."

He had actually written a note for me to read after he'd left... This totally changed the route of my thoughts, and I realized he indeed wanted to talk to me again, and eagerly had written his number, along with a cute note, for me to find on my kitchen. Oh Harry, if only you knew I couldn't care less about the damn movie either.

I decided to call Harry after eating my cereal and writing down I needed to get some more. I was already in my pj's when I grabbed my phone and dialed what I strongly hoped to be his number. He picked it up on the first ring, and something told me he had been waiting for me to call him all day.